Wonka

Director: Paul King
Starring: Timothée Chalamet, Calah Lane, Keegan-Michael Key, Paterson Joseph, Matt Lucas, Matthew Baynton, Sally Hawkins, Rowan Atkinson, Jim Carter, Natasha Rothwell, Olivia Colman, Hugh Grant, Rich Fulcher, Rakhee Thakrar, Tom Davis
Running Time: 116 min.
Rating: PG

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

As the latest cinematic take on Roald Dahl's legendary children's book, Wonka surprisingly represents a best case scenario for another go-around with the material. Now far more associated with Gene Wilder's performance in 1971's Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory than the novel itself, the actor's iconic turn would always be impossible to top. Johnny Depp took a stab at it, attempting something completely different in Tim Burton's 2005 reimagining, but still found himself in the shadow of an instantly recognizable, universally beloved work that's already ingrained into pop culture. 

The unexpected selection of Timothée Chalamet to play this role did little to quell fears of a bloated, miscast cash grab, causing even more groans and skepticism than you'd anticipate ahead of Paul King's musical fantasy prequel. But the involvement of Paddington's imaginative director at least signaled the chance this could amount to more. And as it turns out, King and co-writer Simon Farnaby deliver, concocting an origin story that does justice to its predecessor's spirit, while still straying from the source in inspired ways.

Upon arriving in Europe, eccentric inventor and magician Willy Wonka (Chalamet) dreams of honoring his late mother (Sally Hawkins) by opening a chocolate shop at The Galéries Gourmet, home to the world's best confectioneries. But after quickly burning through his savings, a homeless Wonka is persuaded by oafish henchman Bleacher (Tom Davis) to stay at Mrs. Scrubitt's (Olivia Colman) boarding house, unwittingly signing a contract full of expensive hidden fees. Trapped in her basement laundry working off his debt, he meets five other "employees," including young orphan Noodle (Calah Lane) with whom he shares his chocolate making secrets. 

Planning his escape, Wonka must contend with rival shop owners Slugworth (Paterson Joseph), Prodnose (Matt Lucas) and Fickelgruber (Matthew Baynton) who bribe the corrupt, chocolate addicted Police Chief (Keegan-Michael Key) into running him out of town. As Wonka and Noodle attempt to expose this conspiracy, he also faces off with a determined Oompa Loompa named Lofty (Hugh Grant) who's been stealing his sweets to settle a past score. With Wonka's chances of achieving his lifelong dream slipping away, he'll need to get creative, enlisting the help of some new friends.

This opens with a show stopping musical number that establishes Wonka's situation in only a few minutes, successfully grabbing those who may know nothing of the character at all. But it doesn't rely on previous films or even the book, instead using both as a jumping off point to explore what the early incarnation of this wacky inventor could have been. This helps set the tone, with King striking a strong balance between story and song, knowing exactly how to present these sequences so they don't feel forced or shoehorned in. 

Infusing young Wonka with a wry, off-putting sense of humor, Chalamet gives us a sense of how unlucky beginnings inform the aspiring entrepreneur's instincts. Determined, but not completely sure of himself, he's in need of some aid and motivation while stumbling into enemy territory, sabotaged at every turn by the hilariously crooked chocolate cartel. 

In a story driven as much by over-the-top villains as its protagonist's heroics, Olivia Colman hams it up as the nefarious Mrs. Scrubitt, whose long suffering laundry workers are at least afforded the luxury of a catchy theme song. As her nasty hotel owner gives off vibes of Annie's Miss Hannigan, Paterson Joseph's conniving ringleader Slugworth makes for the most memorable of the three chocolatiers, with Keegan-Michael Key also stealing scenes as the bumbling, overeating lawman. 

Much of what works can be attributed to the pairing of Chalamet with Calah Lane as the orphan Noodle. Lane's just a total natural in the role and the writers are clever enough to give the character a purpose beyond merely serving as Wonka's junior sidekick. You get the impression he needs her more, with their joint efforts culminating in an elaborate, cleverly choreographed last act heist that's heartfelt and funny. It also feels right on brand, as does the casting of Hugh Grant as an Oompa Loompa, which isn't something anyone knew they needed until seeing it. He definitely doesn't disappoint, playing little orange Lofty as condescendingly as you'd hope.

It's really hard to nail a musical, much less one with an established lineage, but this has a distinctive visual flair and solid pacing that lends well to the format, harkening back to the genre's glory days. Better still, Nathan Crowley's production design is top notch and the plot makes sense, making it easy to care for the humorous heroes and dastardly scoundrels populating King's fantastical world.  

While Wonka lacks the darker, creepier undertones of the previous two films, it adds just the right dose of mischievous cynicism, abiding by the franchise's unwritten rule that things should be a little weird, keeping with the story's spirit. But the biggest shock might be Chalamet, who's delightful in a part most wouldn't think he'd have any business in, emanating just the right mix of innocence and lunacy. Knowing it's a fool's errand attempting to channel Wilder, he instead lays a believable foundation for what we know comes next, bolstering an already enjoyable companion piece to the classic film.                   

The Royal Hotel

Director: Kitty Green
Starring: Julia Garner, Jessica Henwick, Toby Wallace, Hugo Weaving, Ursula Yovich, James Frecheville, Daniel Henshall, Baykali Ganambarr
Running Time: 91 min.
Rating: R 

★★½ (out of ★★★★)

Kitty Green's The Royal Hotel doesn't really start until it's about ready to end, resulting in a slow burn that finally boils over before the credits roll. Less a traditional thriller than a series of misogynistic ordeals befalling its two protagonists, what unfolds is intelligently staged and performed. And yet, even with an atmosphere ripe for such a scenario, this impending sense of doom still feels like a big tease. Seemingly seeking inspiration from 1971's Australian cult classic, Wake In Fright, its best scenes do channel a similar dislocation and anxiety at being stranded in unfamiliar territory with menacing locals. But since so little happens, more patience is required. 

Such a methodical buildup could be a deal breaker for those wanting the film to go somewhere it doesn't, anticipating a violent, grueling story of two young women fighting for survival abroad. Green's previous feature, 2019's #MeToo drama The Assistant actually does a better job ratcheting up a series of micro and macro aggressions within its claustrophobic office setting. This lacks the urgency of that effort, but does feature another absorbing performance from Ozark actress Julia Garner, who at least ensures it won't be mistaken for The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel.             

When American backpackers Hanna (Garner) and Liv (Jessica Henwick) travel through Sydney, Australia and run out of money while partying, they agree to take jobs as bartenders at the Royal Hotel pub in a remote outback mining town. Planning to stay until they've earned enough cash to enjoy their vacation, they meet the pub's owner, Billy (Hugo Weaving) and his wife Carol (Ursula Yovich), who works as the chef. Arriving as their predecessors are thrown a wild going away party, Hanna and Liv are exposed to the patrons, nearly all of whom are drunk men who make sexist jokes, hit on them, and are basically offensive in every way. 

While Hanna is disturbed and frightened by the guys' behavior, Liv chalks it up to cultural differences, rationalizing they just need to hang tight for a few more weeks. But even as Hanna forges a bond with local pubgoer Matty (Toby Wallace), it's clear they're not as safe as Liv presumes. Threatening incidents grow in number and intensity, compromising their ability to walk away without facing potentially violent consequences. As easygoing Liv continues to let things roll off her back, Hanna's had enough, knowing they'll have to take a stand before it's too late.

Based on a true story and adapted into the 2016 documentary Hotel Coolgardie, it isn't hard to believe much of what happens in Green and co-writer Oscar Redding's script, especially considering how it exploits the human fear of fending for yourself in an unknown location surrounded by strangers. Add drinking to an already unbalanced dynamic and those tensions only heighten, lending these events a sense of realism, though not necessarily nail-biting excitement. 

The two friends couldn't be any more different, with Hanna constantly on guard, overwhelmed by the sense things could quickly go bad for them. Between strong hints of racism and implied rape, she knows what's happening here, even as Liv's head remains in the clouds. If nothing else, it's intriguing to see Garner in a role that's the antithesis of Ozark's Ruth Langmore, playing a shy, vulnerable target rather than an agent of chaos. She really registers in the quieter scenes where we see the vaguely disguised terror on Hanna's face, each subtle expression correctly predicting how much worse it'll get. 

Henwick's Liv is a shallower written character, as even a blinking neon "Danger" sign outside the hotel wouldn't be enough to convince her to leave. Hugo Weaving is nearly unrecognizable as pub owner Billy, whose drinking unleashes an unpleasantness wife Carol has grown sick of years ago. Maybe the the only trustworthy person the girls encounter, she knows what it's like to be a woman in a town full of intimidating brutes. One of them, Dolly (Daniel Henshall), comes across as the creepiest and most malicious, hovering on the periphery before an unnerving scene confirms Hanna's worst suspicions. 

Toby Wallace also makes a big impact as Matty, who Hanna is drawn to, but keeps at arm's length. The arc is fairly predictable, but Wallace plays it down the middle so skillfully that we grasp her ambivalence in the face of many red flags. Anyone who's seen Netflix's cancelled too soon The Society knows how strong an actor he is, standing out amidst a loaded cast of future stars. He brings that same devious charm to this, despite the project not amounting to nearly as much. 

By the time this reaches the last act, its reasonable length still leaves you spent, with the closing minutes feeling almost too convenient, if not overdue. Even with Garner delivering a turn that strays considerably from her Emmy winning TV role, it still doesn't quite get over the finish line. The Royal Hotel works well enough as a psychological character study, but everything comes down to its payoff, which reveals a promising setup in search of the missing pieces to do it justice.                      

Lisa Frankenstein

Director: Zelda Williams
Starring: Kathryn Newton, Cole Sprouse, Liza Soberano, Henry Eikenberry, Joe Chrest, Carla Gugino, Jenna Davis, Bryce Romero
Running Time: 101 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Lisa Frankenstein's greatest asset comes in knowing exactly where its going and taking subversive detours to make it more fun than it has a right being. Aside from some minor pacing problems in its second half, Zelda Williams's feature directorial debut keeps the spotlight on whom it belongs, channeling the better aspects of classic 80's teen comedies like Weird Science with aesthetic and stylistic choices that mark her as a filmmaker to watch. Trailers may have indicated this would be a goofy throwback romance between a teen girl and zombie, and while that's not completely untrue, it isn't exactly accurate either. 

Oscar winner Diablo Cody's wickedly clever screenplay mitigates any concerns its premise will deteriorate into a silly farce featuring one sight gag after another. Not only are the jokes unexpectedly sharp, its quirky anti-heroine, Kathyrn Newton cuts loose and goes for the jugular, revealing a different side to the actress we haven't seen in other roles, including Freaky. And in providing her the ideal platform to literally and figuratively slay, it also manages to flesh out a myriad of supporting characters who don't exactly come across as the stereotypes you'd assume.

It's 1989 and sullen teenager Lisa Swallows (Newton) is still grieving the death of her mother at the hands of a masked axe murderer two years earlier. Making matters worse is her father Dale's (Joe Chrest) recent marriage to self-absorbed egomaniac Janet (Carla Gugino), whose popular cheerleader daughter Taffy (Liza Soberano) becomes Lisa's new stepsister. Depressed and withdrawn, Lisa spends most of her free time at the nearby Bachelor's Grove Cemetery speaking to the grave of an unknown Victorian-era man (Cole Sprouse) who died in 1837.

After Lisa visits the young man's grave following an unfortunate party experience with Taffy, a bolt of lightening strikes, resurrecting him. Setting his sights on Lisa, he pays her a surprise visit, with her cleaning the Creature up and hiding him in the closet. Despite being mute, he's the only one who truly understands what she's going through, but their strengthening bond could soon prove to be a match made in hell for everyone else.

The opening 40 minutes are really creative, and for the majority of its running time, it maintains that consistency, transporting us into a world that's very much a pleasure to reside in. If we've been clobbered by self-referential retro horror outings of late, this and last year's 80's set time-bending Totally Killer stand out as notable exceptions, understanding the nuances that make the sub-genre work. And with a wildly inventive, Tim Burton-like animated opening title sequence, eye popping production design and nostalgia infused soundtrack, it's almost immediately obvious Williams just gets it. 

Lisa's the kind of goth melancholy outsider you'd imagine being played by Winona Ryder if this were released in the year it's set. We're given a substantial amount of time with the character, not only exploring her grief, but relationships with her dad, new sister and comically evil stepmother. A crush on classmate Michael (Henry Eikenberry) seems to provide Lisa the only smidgen of hope and confidence she's had since the tragedy. 

Carla Gugino chews up the scenery as Janet, leading viewers to crave her comeuppance while the relentlessly positive Taffy is a little more complicated, actually conveying some degree of sincerity. You could envision a lesser script treating this character worse but Liza Soberano also deserves a lot of credit for helping to flip the "mean girl" trope on its head. This becomes especially important in the film's last act when all the equity she's poured into the role eventually pays off.

Seemingly influenced by Johnny Depp's Edward Scissorhands turn, Sprouse does fine work opposite Newton, delivering sort of this old school silent film performance that rests almost entirely on his herky jerky movements and facial expressions. The two characters form this parasitic union that's simultaneously demented and touching, with Lisa appearing to have finally connected with someone, even if he's not fully among the living. Also thanks to Newton, Lisa remains likably sympathetic as the two embark on their rampage of revenge, her character's considerable sewing skills helping along the way.  

The most surprising element in Lisa Frankenstein just might be how dark it manages to get, and while fans will probably still groan about its 'PG-13' rating, this does find that sweet spot of showing just enough gore and violence to fit the picture's tone. The film's only real offense is Cody's dubious claim it's somehow set in the same "universe" as her recently reappraised 2009 horror comedy Jennifer's Body. But considering just how superior this is to that, it's unlikely anyone would have problems telling them apart. 

Cat Person

Director: Susanna Fogel
Starring: Emilia Jones, Nicholas Braun, Geraldine Viswanathan, Isabella Rossellini, Hope Davis, Fred Melamed, Christopher Shyer, Liza Koshy, Josh Andrés Rivera, Isaac Cole Powell, Michael Gandolfini
Running Time: 120 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

Based on the 2017 New Yorker short story by Kristen Roupenian, Cat Person revolves around a single idea, but it's an undeniably good one. Carried by a pair of gripping performances, it explores how the thinnest of lines can separate seemingly innocuous and dangerous situations. That's the challenge facing a protagonist who may have bigger worries than whether the man she's dating really owns two cats. Though this detail could represent the difference between a decent, eccentric stranger with noble intentions or a serial killer about to send her home in a body bag. 

Director Susanna Fogel begins her film with a great Margaret Atwood quote: "Men are afraid that women will laugh at them. Women are afraid that men will kill them." But don't be fooled into thinking this is a #MeToo lecture. It reaches a bit further, keeping us guessing until the story's backed against a wall, eventually transforming into a compulsively watchable character driven thriller that achieves slightly more. 

20 year-old college sophomore and part-time movie theater employee Margot (Emilia Jones) attracts the attention of frequent theatergoer Robert (Nicholas Braun), whom she describes to her feminist best friend Taylor (Geraldine Viswanathan) as resembling a character in an Apatow comedy. After a couple of awkward encounters, he gets Margot's number and they start texting until she eventually agrees to go out with him, despite Taylor's warnings and her misgivings about his odd behavior.

Following a disastrous first date and lingering feelings Robert could have creepy or even violent tendencies, Margot still can't break it off, constantly trying to convince herself of the positives. But even while fearing the worst case scenario, nothing quite prepares her for the consequences when this fling implodes and Robert proves increasingly difficult to move past. 

This guy may as well be waving a red flag when he walks into that theater and encounters Margot, with the two engaging in a strained banter that only sort of qualifies as conversation. At first glance, he's so obviously suspicious it almost seems like a flaw in Michelle Ashford's script or even the direction, until you realize that's exactly what the film's going for. Margot isn't so much enamored with him, but the idea of it, immediately tossing logic out the window to tempt fate. 

Fogel employs multiple dream sequences where Margot envisions Robert attacking her, only to pull back the curtain to reveal she's imagining it all. The familiar device becomes annoyingly repetitive until we get a hypothetical therapy session that gives us a rare glimpse into his mind and possible motivations. Reality collides with Margot's expectations when tiny details add up to paint a fuller picture. Young and insecure, she barely tolerates Taylor's sound advice and can't stand her smothering mom (Hope Davis) or vain step-dad (Christopher Shyer). Every decision she makes can be viewed through that prism.  

CODA actress Emilia Jones gives a high wire act of a performance that further clarifies why even that Best Picture winner's harshest detractors thought she was the best thing about it. Her upside is further cemented here in a difficult role that requires someone capable of credibly skirting the line between extreme vulnerability and cynicism. With every decision, Margot hides her romantic idealism beneath sarcastic humor, but remains just aware enough to realize she could end up a true crime statistic. 

As Robert, Succession's Nicholas Braun makes us doubt our own suspicions, investing his character with alarming quirks while leaving enough room for plausible deniability. Since this mostly takes Margot's perspective, so do we, but Braun deserves a lot of credit for planting subtle clues that Robert could be getting a raw deal. Or maybe not. The character's problematic worship of Harrison Ford's cinematic persona and the fact he looks a decade older than he claims doesn't qualify him as a killer, but everything is only a matter of degrees. And the increments are smaller than both assume. 

Geraldine Viswanathan impresses as Margot's cynical, sub-reddit dwelling friend, Taylor, highlighting the dissonance and similarities between living online and in the real world. And Isabella Rossellini has a small role too bizarre to describe other than by saying it involves an ant colony. The film also utilizes texting pretty well on screen, especially in a powerful scene where a series of messages intensify in hostility with each incoming ping. 

The turning point comes in a painfully awkward sex scene where Margot disengages and retreats into a conversation with another version of herself. It's kind of brilliant how Fogel makes this so uncomfortable to watch, as the whole sequence seems never ending, forcing us to watch and feel her humiliation. Stuck between lying to get through it and a fear of saying "no," she simply surrenders, chalking it up as the final straw. 

Managing to write itself out of a hole, the film provides a conclusive finish while leaving enough lingering questions to keep us thinking. In retrospect, it ends the only way it can, coming full circle as the "origin story" neither character wanted. Reluctantly entering a relationship based on the illusion of trust and compatibility, our heroine's dilemma escalates when self doubt overrides suspicion, causing viewers to squirm at the treacherous territory these two navigate in their messy, desperate attempt at authentic human connection.